Additional Scenes (2):
Episode 2: The Gladiators
sun radiates fierce heat, spilling over his shoulders from the clear sky. He
pants, sweat running down over his chest and arms, and stares down at the man
lying at his feet in the dust.
Tolar. Heís a big guy, every muscle defined in the
gleam of sun and sweat. Pete defeated him against all expectations, fighting
hand-to-hand in the primitive amphitheater before a crowd of screaming
humans. No one expected or even wanted him to win, except of course Galen,
somewhere up there in the spectators.
Pete bends, picks up the sword from the dirt and hoists it in his hand. He
switches his gaze upward, searching desperately for his chimpanzee friend,
but the figures blur in the heat and the bloodlust beating down on his head.
He turns in a circle, his thoughts coming randomly, adrenalin disrupting them
like bursts of static.
Alanís face, desperate, stubborn, watching Barlow take
the disk from the dust, away from Alan.
Iíll get your disk.
Tolar waits, chest bellowing up, down, up, down.
The crowd chants. Pete keeps staring up at the benches, the sweating,
screaming villagers. The heat clings to his body like a hot, wet blanket,
ďKill him, kill him!Ē
If he were the one down in the dirt, theyíd be screaming for his blood.
Doesnít matter whose. As long as they get it.
He canít get enough air.
The blade slips in his grip. He points it down at Tolar.
The villagers scream louder, down a long tunnel.
Tolarís one of them. If heíd won, Burke would be
dead now, blood sinking into the dust.
He feels his heartbeat, feels it pound in the sword trembling in his grasp.
His vision is tinged with darkness. Out of nowhere comes Alanís voice.
Itís hope. Itís home. I canít forget it.
Alanís hope. Laughable.
Maybe heís crazy, but heís the sanest crazy man Iíve ever known.
Itís as if someone flings cold water in his face. His fingers let go of the
He backs away, calling Galenís name as the crowd surges down the steps.